No Honor In War
by Davoid123
Summary: Appolyon demanded war. and what she demanded, she got. Simple as that. until it wasn't. (Book the Warden, finished. the first chapters of Book the Raider are Done, the rest will be uploaded once I write them.)
1. Book the Warden: Chapter 1

**The Wardens, Members of an Ancient Order, fallen to Dust.**

 **Sworn to Defend the Weak, Masters of the Longsword.**

 **Their Origins lost to History, still they fight for what is Right, but only a Few may join their order.**

* * *

Tenth of July, 608 _Anno Post Cataclysmus._

That day, I learned I was serving the wrong Warlord, Hervis Daubeny. The Day that I met the Blackstone Legion, and Holden Cross.

It had been a quiet month. Of course, we lived in the Middle of Ashfeld, right below the reach of whatever was remaining of the Iron Legion. It was usually quiet for us. The Vikings didn't attack us, not this far away from their own Frostlands, and the Small Skirmishes between the mercenary groups almost never escalated into a real battle.

It was my fifth month as a Warden. I was still not as skilled with the heavy Sword as I'd like. it was never quite balanced. I had never seen war before. Not like many others had.

I knew of the principle. After all, I _was_ a Warden. But nothing more than the fact 'It's bloody. Pray you never see it. if you do, make sure others won't'.

The Fort Daubeny was safe. Until it wasn't.

That day, it was warm. Like most Summer days here. the Sun shone brightly in the Sky, not a bird in the Sky. But then, a loud crash sound shook me awake.

I pushed the door open, running out on the wall, ducking as a Catapult Ball flew past my head, destroying a small piece of the Wall I was standing on.

"Defend the Walls!" I yelled, The Militia running into work, and ran to the other side of the wall.

Not even a stone throw away from the Castle, the Largest Mass of Soldiers I'd ever seen were marching on the single road leading to the castle.

"Come out!" Standing the first in the Attacking Cohorts, a Man in the ever Intimidating Armor of a Lawbringer looked at us, "Daubeny! IT doesn't have to be like this!"

The Old man was bald. Old enough to be my Trainer back in the Order, but not quite. He didn't have the Calm look of a Warden. Like all Lawbringers, he was grim. Easily showing that he didn't want to be here anymore than any of us did.

Daubeny didn't answer him, of course. Bastard was probably stuffing his face in his Chambers.

But our Archers did. A volley of Arrows flew towards the Legion, dropping a few of the frontline. He shook his head, accepting his helmet from a Warden in his army, before pointing at the door.

"BREAK IT DOWN!" ten Blackstone Soldiers were pushing a Small Battering Ram towards us.

If It reached the Gates, we would be dead.

"Keep them off the Walls!" I ordered a Knight on our side as I walked away. It was time I tested my mettle in a real battle.

I didn't want to see if it was as bad as the Trainers had told us. But I am a Warden. I had a _Job_ to do.

The Blackstones were coming up the East wall. So I ran there, as fast as My Armor would allow me.

As soon as I reached it, I saw a Couple of Blackstone Wardens pushing the soldiers there off it, before turning towards me.

They looked Cocky. But I had enough Space behind me that I could step back. They didn't. and they didn't even know it.

A Catapult Bolt Hit the wall, right beneath where the Blackstones were standing. The shockwave threw all three of us to the ground. Cursing under my breath, I rose shakily, holding my Sword in a Defensive Stance.

The Other two did so as well, but before a fight could even begin, an arrow pierced the neck of one of the Wardens, the poor bastard falling to the ground with a groan.

Without looking at his fallen fellow, the Captain glared at me, and brought down his sword on my head.

 _That_ I was used to.

 _Block High!_ I brought my sword upon my head, meeting his sword with a loud clank. He stepped back, lunging again. _Block Left!_ My Sword met his, a heavy swing that made me stagger, and him to lose his footing. That was my opening, I swung left, sword cutting through the Maile, and into the Flesh.

Pulling the Sword out, I met another Swing _Block Low Left!_ Following with a pair of swings left and right, blocking as the Enemy attacked.

Finally, I thrust, cutting through the knight's chest. Pulling out my Sword, a brought down the sword by its Guard upon the man's neck, finishing him with the Most Renown Warden Technique, the Hilt Strike.

The Knight fell down with a moan.

Running past him, I walked towards the Least Guarded section of the East wall, coincidentally above one of the Fort Towers.

A lonely Blackstone was standing, a fellow Warden fallen in front of him.

I knew Reinforcements were coming. I just needed to _Hold_ that wall until they'd arrive.

Running towards him, I brought my sword upon his unguarded neck, finishing him with a Single Strike.

Before I had the chance to call for Reinforcements, another Knight scaled the walls, jumping over. But I was ready.

 _Dodge! Block Left! Dodge, Swing Left! Dodge! Swing Right! Swing Left! Block Low! Straight Thrust!_

It was almost like I was in the Training Arena again. except that here the Loser would lose their life, instead of their Gold.

Three more Knight I killed, thinking _Damn, these poor Sods are even less Experienced than I am_ ,

Turning to make sure there would be no surprises from any other side, I walked over to kick off the Ladder that these knights had climbed, but then Two more took its place.

The Two Knights climbing over looked at me, one of them chuckling, "A Common Mercenary, Threatening a Knight of the Blackstone Legion?"

I growled, assuming a Defensive stance. "This Common Mercenary has killed four of your numbers in the last Ten minutes."

One of them Growled, lunging. Holding his Sword to mine as I blocked, I slammed myself at him, bashing him to the wall with my Left Shoulder plate.

The Knight Lost his breath, and before he had a chance to regain it, my sword had relieved him of his head.

The Other knight, the Cocky one, met a relatively similar fate, and then I kicked off the new ladders.

Timing almost Impeccable, the door opened with a bang.

Four of Daubeny's Captains walked through it. " _You_ did all this?" one of them asked, incredulously.

"Yes." I snapped back, "Thanks for the _Assist!_ "

One of them said "we were busy. You'd see, if you took a look!"

They were right. The Courtyard was in full battle, Men-at-arms trading blows at each other. "Why're you here?" I told them, "If the yard needs more defense?"

"We were sent here to Secure the Eastern Tower. We have it. get down there. It's killing time!"

Nodding with a grim certainty, I left the Tower, taking the stairs down and joining the battle.

* * *

With a sharp cry, three Men fell from the Walls above the Gate. "Ready Bows!" a Blackstone Knight yelling, "Fire at will!"

 _Archers_!

"Go!" a Captain said to me, "We'll hold it here!" As he decapitated a militia with a full swing, "take care of the Archers, before we lose this!"

Climbing the Ladder, and Killing the Unskilled captains, I cut my way through the Men at arms, until I reached the Gate walls.

Lord Daubeny was up there, with a couple of Conquerors and more than a couple of Men at arms. " _That's_ how it's done, you see!" the Man himself was saying. Not paying him any attention, I charged at the Enemy.

The Knights were skilled. This time. but not good enough.

Leading a Left swing from one of the knights to the other, I ran past them, and towards the other gate.

The Archers were behind a Catapult, still ready to fire even though it was in no position to fire at an enemy.

With a small swing, the Catapult released, destroying the wall beneath it and dropping down below on the Blackstones, five Archers following it.

Cross, still not joining the fight, huffed, before yelling "CHARGE!"

The battle had truly begun now.

Dropping down on a poor Captain from where I stood, I joined the Other forces, Daubeny and his soldiers following.

The Supposed Leader of this Castle yelled "No! Defend _Me!_ " as his vanguard left him to join the battle.

I stopped for a second. "Show some _Dignity_ , Man! there's a Whole Fort full of men to Defend!"

The Warlord gave me a dirty look, but said nothing. mostly because he was busy killing an enemy.

As I cut through the Various Men-at-arms with ease, I already knew that Battering Ram would End this fight.

All we _could_ do was to make sure there was no help within the Fort to join the Blackstones. Thus, Slaughtering poorly trained men at the hundreds.

Until the Door Broke down. A sea of dust fell on the fort. The Lawbringer himself walking through the Gate like he owned the place, killed off the nearest Soldiers, before Yelling "STOP!"

"DAUBENY! DAUBENY, SHOW YOURSELF!"

The Warlord walked past a couple of his men, standing face to face to the Old man. "These warriors don't have to die." Cross said, "Trial by Combat, Right now!"

"What?" the Other man said incredulously, "Fight _you_? that's not a trial, that's an _execution_!"

The Knight took a step forward, looking at his foe in the eyes, or at least where his Eyes should be, full-faced helmets and all, and said "Then fight my Second" turning his head to nod at a Warden with a longsword, who raised his sword, taking a step forward.

"Fight your second?" the warlord wasn't done, "That's not _honorable!"_

Everyone scoffed, on both sides, _like you know anything about Honor_.

"You!" the Warlord pointed his sword at us. "You'll be _my_ second."

Nobody stepped forward.

Much as the Blackstones were untrained, we'd had a hard time defeating them, fight Cross' own Second?

Until I noticed his sword was pointed at me. I looked left and right. " _Sorry Mate_ ," " _We'll be sure to light you a candle_ "

I sighed, grabbing my sword and taking a step forward. "Alright then."

I knew that were I to refuse, there'd be a Slaughter. I had to fight, but not for Daubeny. For the men I'd been dining with this past few months. For the poor soldiers that didn't know signing up as a Guard meant an all-out Battle if your leader pissed off the wrong guy. Even for the men we'd lost.

I had to beat the Champion, and as soon as I could.

* * *

The Champion was a warden too. Or had been, anyway. With a Loud War cry, he charged, feinting left, but Striking from Above.

Blocking the Swing, I knocked the man back, sword ready for another block. _Left! Right! Dodge! Swing Low! Strike Left!_ Not even one of my Strikes landed.

The Champion yelled, " _Miserum!_ " not even pained by blocking this strike. He slammed his shoulder-plate at me. My Concentration broken, I missed his next strike. Fortunately, it didn't cut deep. Leaving a mere shallow cut on my Side.

The Blackstones Cheered once. I growled.

"FIRST BLOOD!" Cross called, "Do you Surrender, Daubeny?"

Not risking his own neck, the man said "Never!" Cross sighed, "As you wish. Continue!"

He was Good. But I'd be better.

 _Block Left! High! Low! Right! swing low! Swing Right! Dodge, Swing Left! Avert attack!_ Finally, I led his sword forwards, the man staggering forward in his momentum. His Back unguarded, I slashed once.

The Man cried once.

"FIRST BLOOD!" Daubeny called back. "Do _you_ yield?"

Cross glared at him. the man deflated. "Continue"

If Cross hadn't said anything now, he wouldn't say anything later. This battle would be to the death.

And by now, both of us knew this.

I shared a look of Acceptance with the Knight, before resuming combat. This time, mercilessly.

 _Swing left! Dodge, Block left! Block Left! Block High! Dodge! Swing left, Swing low, Sweep left! Dodge! Straight Thrust!_

My Thrust landed, sword shoved into the man's chest.

I pulled the sword out, the man fell to his knees.

This would be painful for him. but also a Mercy. At this point he'd bleed out to death in about three minutes. but not if I had anything to do about it.

Gripping the sword by its blade, a brought down the sword upon his head, the guard pierced him in the neck, and he moaned. As I pulled the sword out, he fell, Finally dead.

The Howl of Triumph came from Daubeny's Soldiers. Everyone knew Cross was a man of his words. Now that We'd beaten his champion, he'd leave. A good man, I know I wouldn't.

Holden left his Poleax to a Soldier next to him, and stepped towards Daubeny. Intimidated, The Warlord raised his Sword as if to defend himself. Cross scoffed, and then said "It will not do for a Knight of the Blackstone Legion to be felled by a Common Mercenary."

I gulped. _Oh Father who art in Haeven. He's gonna kill me. Save my Soul._

The Lawbringer reached for the Sword's handle, Daubeny reluctantly giving it up and letting the Knight take it.

Much like My own blade, it was finely crafted. For course, he status as 'Warlord' (Read rich Bastard with a bunch of Thugs to do his bidding) guaranteed him a finer sword. Unlike mine, Which I'd received as My Sword when I'd been initiated into the Order.

Don't Judge me. I had no feats behind me to guarantee me a Sword. It was this, or taking a sword off a man's corpse. Dishonorable. And impractical. If it was any good, that Sword would've saved his own life.

"What is your name, Sellsword?" the Lawbringer asked, sword at his side, almost ready to strike.

 _At least I'll face my death with Dignity_. "Rex. Rex Bellator."

"Rex Bellator" the Man said, "Warrior King. Your parents weren't that Creative, were they?" but he wasn't waiting for a reply.

"Kneel" Cross looked at me, his stare a soulless glare, from the most terrifying Helmet ever created.

My Eyes widened in Surprise. _No killing?_

This was going to be interesting. Driving my sword into the ground, I removed my helmet, kneeling slowly in front of him, looking down.

Sweat dropped on the ground. But nobody cared. Everyone was as surprised as I was. It's not every day a Man from the Losing side of an Army gets Knighted by the Winner's Leader.

Holden threw his helmet to the Ground, holding the Warlord's blade at my left side.

"For Valor in Battle, For Honor in Service, I, Holden Cross, Raise you. Stand, Rex, Knight of the Blackstone Legion." Offering his hand.

I took it, rising uncertainly, accepting Daubeny's Sword. Cross took a step forwards, picking up the sword I'd drove into the Ground, scoffed, and threw it at the Man's feet.

"We're Finished here." he said, and his men started to leave.

Our Men finally released a holden breath. Safe at last.

I still didn't know.

I'd just been Knighted. I outranked _everyone_ in this castle now. Or, more precisely, I didn't have a rank anymore. I couldn't be ordered by anyone other than the Leading knights of the Legion.

Staying here would be foolish. But these men were my friends. _Some of them_ were, anyway.

But I followed him, New sword at ease.

I was a Knight now. A Knight Warden. And part of the Blackstone Legion.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **So, the moment I saw this game, I knew I'd love it.**

 **And, as a tribute to the hours I've spent playing (and watching playthroughs) this game, I post this. First chapter of (hopefully) Many to come.**

 **I know this is nothing more than a personified novelization of the game. Please don't flame, but R &R!**

 **And until next time, whenever it is,**

 **Davoid signing off!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Rex Bellator would prove his worth. More than it, in fact. But there was still much work to be done.**

 **The Vikings were about to Destroy the Last Sanctuary of the Iron Legion. It would befall** _ **My Blackstone Legion**_ **to save them.**

* * *

Fact remains. Joining a Legion was quite different than Joining a Guild, or Being recruited by a Warlord.

As a Blackstone Legionnaire, IT would befall us to protect, defend and Judge the people within our borders. Almost daily, Lawbringers, the order with the smallest number in this legion, would go and Judge towns, normally border towns, and if they were worthy, we would give them aid, fortifying their Walls and Filling their ranks.

In the Weeks after joining the Legion, I fought more battles than I'd fought up until that moment. Until one day, Cross called for me.

"We have a Pidgeon from the Iron Fortress, northern Ashfeld" he said. I looked at him incredulously, "I know what the Iron Legion is. What's the situation?"

"Vikings. As per usual. The Iron Legion is about to be routed. We need forces to defend them." Cross said. Then stopped. "You'll be going there with a Force of Three Hundred men. As Soon as Appolyon gives the-" he stopped, as a Man-at-arms brought him a letter. "From Appolyon, Sir!" the poor sod said, stuttering. The Knight rolled his eyes, "Good job. Now get back to your stations."

He opened the scroll, and cursed " _Merda!_ _Not even a single man-at-arms?_ "

I looked at him. wisely not saying anything. Holden could get pissed off, and if he was interrupted in the middle of a rant, it'd be bad for all parties involved.

"Alright, Alright" he said, calming himself. "Maybe she needs the men in the Western Front, against the Dawn Empire. Surely, it can't be that-" he looked at me. "Get your ass to the Iron Fortress. You're going alone."

I blinked. "Alone? Against an entire Viking Army?"

"It's still a Legion" Cross said, rather uncertainly, "Surely they have some men at the ready. All you have to do is help them fight back. Defeat the Vikings, and return. I'll speak to Appolyon as Soon as I can. Hopefully I can still Convince him to send a detachment."

But I couldn't really care. I was just a new guy. I'd been knighted less than a month ago. surely they didn't trust me _that_ much. Which could only mean that Appolyon, our 'Wise and Esteemed Leader', who I'd never seen before, was sending me to my own death.

* * *

There are Many Legions. The Iron Legion the most Ancient, and by all accounts the Greatest among them. But in Ashfeld, The Iron Legion was about to be Routed.

Their Commander, a Conqueror named "Stone", needed an Army. From the Carnage I'd seen on my way, he wouldn't do without one. I was the only one Cross could send.

"Blackstone!" From up on the Walls, the Conqueror Yelled, "Where's our Reinforcements?"

I looked at my left, and right. then said brightly, "I'm it!"

"Is this a _joke_?" The Legionnaire looked at me incredulously, but said "No. Wait. Cross doesn't make Jokes. _OPEN THE GATE!_ "

"Lead us out, Blackstone!" In front of me, the Men at arms and the few Knights they could gather together were Cheering, Ready to Battle. "Good Luck!"

The Gate Opened, an explosion blocking our view for a second.

Then The Army charged.

Sad thing was, the Battle was already Lost. I needed to _change_ that.

In a battle, Duels aren't Common. It's simple stupidity to Focus on one particular man, when War is going on around you. a Random hit could mean your death.

In real Battles, Slaughter is imminent. Both sides know it.

This meant that when a Huge Viking with a Giant Axe, even bigger than Cross', came to challenge me, I couldn't give in. I had to cut off his leg and move on, let him be trampled to death by the Soldiers.

It was Bloody, By My count, I killed at least twenty, and pushed a few more into the water, which would mean death, and that was only pushing the Vikings back, and regaining the Bridge. When we were in the Yard in front of the Fortress, with enough Space for Single Combat to be Possible, I had the chance to make a Difference.

It was Simple. We had the main Front. But the Vikings had Flanked us. We needed to take back the flanks. And with the Hundred-something Soldiers busy fighting for their lives, it fell to me to make that difference.

The First Viking I faced in Single Combat was a _Berserk_. Or however it is it's pronounced. I'm not a Viking, Okay?

A poorly Armored Man with two Short Axes. He let out a loud war cry and jumped down the Steps of the Tower I needed to Secure for our Archers to be able to work.

He jumped, but I raised my Sword in Defense, and threw him at my left.

The Man Rolled as he fell, and lunged, striking with both his axes in a way I knew would kill me if I hadn't dodged. But my strike could _and did_ land. A Thrust to his leg, I forced him to his knees, bringing down my sword at his neck.

In the Garrison there were more Vikings. At least ten of them, One with a Longsword.

Dodging a Strike with the axe, I drove my sword forward, Hitting his hands.

The Viking Cried, and let go of the ax. That's the bad thing about a Weapon without a Guard. Easy to Disarm.

And a Disarmed Man is a Dead man. rule number one in a Battle.

Taking down the rest of them didn't take much time, A FEW of them were so weak a mere punch would knock them down and a mere Swing would kill them off.

The Garrison was empty. It had to be filled soon. Yelling "Reinforcements!" I waved my sword around like a bloody moron, until a couple of Other Warden got the message, leading a few men off the Battleground.

The Second Garrison was as easy as the first. A Couple of Viking Militia as well as a Man with a Longsword.

Dodging the first Block, I blocked left, and thrusted straight at his throat. With a giant Sword like that, 'Thrusted Straight at his Throat' essentially means a very painful Decapitation.

I'm sure they'd've done something like that to us if they had the chance. In fact, I knew they would. I'd seen what they left in their wake.

This Garrison had the High Ground. The most essential thing for any Archer Squad. Which meant It would be necessary to fill it to the brim with Sharpshooters.

As soon as the Archer Squad was in the garrison, I was on my way to the last Garrison, the final key to holding the Flanks.

The Vikings seemed to know a bit about Warfare too. The Last Garrison had some archers. Which would be bad.

I had to take care of the archers before they'd become a real threat.

Climbing the Ladder, I looked at the five Vikings.

Badly armored, not even good with their weapons.

The Vikings weren't that serious about this Fort. They just needed us busy. But for what?

The archers were down. But now a Giant Man with a Giant Sword was looking at me, extremely pissed off. " _Merda!_ " I swore, as I dodged a particularly strong attack.

 _Block Left! Dodge! Block and Slam at the Wall!_ I bashed the Man with my shoulder, slamming him at the Giant Lighthouse Fire in the middle of the Garrison.

He cried as he broke his back.

It would be a mercy to kill him. a mercy I wasn't about to give.

Walking out of the Tower, I smiled. We had the Upper Hand now. Time to push them back. "PUSH FORWARD!" I ordered, pointing my sword at the Vikings. "LET'S GET THESE SAVAGES OUT OF OUR CITADEL!"

* * *

The Fort finally out of risk, Stone led another Cohort of his men out, leaving command to his second. And joined the Front.

I could finally see him work. And he was good.

Stone was a Conqueror. One of the Few who hadn't been forcibly drifted. He just loved bashing things, it seemed. But he was one of the best I'd ever seen. You don't normally see a man Block a Daneax with the chains of his Morning star. Or knock off a man's head with a nonchalant strike.

"I have to say," he said, when he found himself next to me, pushing back the Last of the Vikings out of the Citadel. "I'm impressed, Warden. Cross knew what he was doing!"

The last of the Vikings were out. And we were there to make sure they weren't getting in anytime soon.

But then, out of the fallen trees, Climbed a Woman. A Viking woman, with a Round Shield and a Spear.

"STOP!" she bellowed, the charisma of her tone forcibly stopping the last of the skirmishes.

The Vikings cleared the Field, and allowed her to step forward, "I'll deal with this one!"

At least, I hope she said something like that. I don't speak Dane. Or Norsk.

It'd be humiliating if she was, for example, wondering if she'd left her favorite spear home or something.

Stepping forwards, she prepared for a fight, and I readied my sword.

If it was a fight she wanted, a Fight She Would Get.

The Viking, whatever she was supposed to be dressing like, was better armored than most of those I'd faced.

She had a full Leather Armor, and a Light Helmet. Still not Plate, but for a Spearman (Or Spearwoman, I suppose), Agility is more important than Defense. If they know what they're doing a weapon won't even hit them.

And that shield made it worse. my weapon was slow. No matter how fast and strong I was, I'd never be as fast as a Spear. And the pointy end meant that if the weapon punctured my armor, I'd be dead in a minute.

I had to handle my armor. It was times like this when I wondered why the Wardens didn't wear Plate armor like the Lawbringers did.

Not showing any of my inner Fears, I stepped forward, circling the Savage, ready to strike.

Since neither of us would understand what the other could say, there was no need for Boasting. Our Skill would show itself.

She Attacked First. I wasn't fast enough to dodge right, so I Dropped my left shoulder to let the Plate take the hit.

Sparks let out, but my armor was still fine. And she had an opening. I slammed the Hilt of my Sword at the Viking's Helmed Face. She staggered back, spitting out blood, not dropping this small advantage, I charged straight in. with a swing from the dull side of my blade I tried to Sweep her and throw her off her feet.

The Viking jumped back, before pointing her shield at me, and charging straight in.

The Shield-bash pushed me back to one of the trees, staggered, but right as the Viking was bringing her Spear down to end me, I dodged.

This time, Successfully. And striked at her side again.

 _Swing Left! Strike Right! Thrust Straight! Sweep!_ And after an onslaught of attacks, she was finally down. I bashed her with my Shoulder Plate, and Bashed her in the Face with the Hilt of my Sword, the Backhand Strike felling her, and ending the Duel.

The Viking fell to her knees, and then to the side, bleeding, dead.

The Vikings began escaping. One of them wasn't fast enough.

Stone bashed his face in with his Shield, throwing him off his feet. The man crawled towards his sword, but the Conqueror calmly stepped on his hand, the _crack_ of the bones clear for all to hear.

He readied his Morning Star, and I looked away.

Blood founted from where his Head should have been.

I walked towards him. without turning, he said "Not Bad, Blackstone."

"Not bad at all!" He snickered, "Pretty sure I could've done it myself, but…" he turned towards me, hand raised.

I shook it. he had a firm Grip. Not painful, like Cross, but still firm.

I'd Done it.

The Single Man alone had been enough to turn the tides.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **And the First Actual Level of the game is done.**

 **It really surprised me. In Old times, one guy didn't normally change the battle all by himself. But well, what do I know. In the game you do essentially kill about a hundred enemies every level all by yourself…**

 **Alright, Until Next Chapter,**

 **Davoid Signing off!**


	3. Chapter 3

**At Long Last, we had the Vikings on the Run. And in the Mopping up efforts, we also Claimed the rest of the Scattered Legions Bringing them under the Blackstone Banner.**

 **Rex, The New Warden, I Always thought, had reservations about some of our** _ **methods**_ **.**

* * *

I stayed in the Northern Ashfeld, still away from the Viking Borders, for a few more weeks, securing the Land and Killing the Vikings.

But In my time away from the Rest of the Army, I started to realize something. I had _Questions,_ about the Blackstone Legion.

When Cross showed up again, with his Men behind him, they Claimed the land as Blackstone Region, like they'd done a lot of times before.

Not all Iron Legionnaires accepted that. Many of them rebelled. All of them Died. Painfully.

But there were more important matters to discuss now.

"The Last of the Vikings have holed up in an Outpost up ahead. One the Iron Legionnaires Deserted"

I nodded, already knowing I'd have to do it by myself. "Need backup?" I heard him say from behind me.

"I can Handle it" I replied, in a tone I quite Hope Wasn't Headstrong. "Be careful with that Ego, Rex" he warned me.

But I hadn't told him everything.

There was a man who'd be with me in the fight. But not a Blackstone.

Stone was there, waiting for me. "Ready?" I told him, he replied "Lead the way!"

I needed to do this without Blackstones following me around. Legionnaires don't just desert for no reason.

If there were _really_ deserters, I needed to see for myself.

* * *

Stone was Not a Blackstone. And even though I was a Blackstone Myself, that meant I could _trust_ him.

And trusted his skill in knowing when I was anxious.

"Something you wanna talk about?" he said. "Not yet" I shot back, walking straight towards the Outpost.

Three Vikings ahead.

I hoped to take them out in the confusion. But in true Conqueror Fashion, Stone yelled "VIKINGS!" and charged straight in.

I dodged a Berserker attack, leaving the two heavies for Stone to handle for now, I thrusted forwards, Sword going all the way through the man's chest, and raised it, the Berserker still on it, and swung left. The Dead Viking hit the other one, both of them falling down.

Blood rised from the Head Stomp when Stone brought down his Morningstar.

The Vikings dead, the two of us crouched behind a stone, looking at the Sanctuary in front of us.

It was a Normal Garrison Fort. Not large enough to be a castle, yet not small enough to be a Garrison.

Stone looked at me, "Doesn't look too hard."

But I had other things in mind. "Everywhere we go, we've abandoned our people. What's happened to the Iron Legion?"

The Legionnaire looked at me blankly. I rolled my eyes. "Wait Here. I'll clear the bridge."

* * *

Of course, by clear, I meant defeat the single Viking standing on it.

It was easy enough. I slammed my Sword at his face, and in the moment of Confusion Kicking him in the chest.

The Bandit staggered back. And lost his footing, falling down to the Lava bellow.

This North in Ashfeld, the Land still remembered _Magna Cataclysmus_. The Volcanoes were everywhere, Geysers created daily. The Vikings, coming from a far distant land, had chosen it as their home.

The Cataclysm made it hard for them to Farm there, though. And even though the Northerners still had their Fishing, most Vikings had no way to make food.

Thus, Raiding.

The Vikings were quite Protective of the lands they raided, though. The Giant Horn blow that called every Viking into attention as soon as a Sentry noticed the Guard down was a sign of that. The Gate opened, Vikings Pouring out by tens.

But, now that the Blackstone Legion was here, it was time to remove the Viking threat. Push them back to their own land, and eventually the Seas.

As soon as I'd killed the first few Vikings, finally entering the Fort, Stone got off his ass too, "I thought Vikings were _Warriors_!" he taunted an enemy as he flung his Flail, breaking a man's leg.

They weren't many, in this fort. But they had good leadership. A Commander that actually led his forces right.

And I needed to take out that Commander. That's the problem with the Raiders. They're good fighters. But without someone to point them at the right enemy, they are more clueless than a blind Chicken.

On the Top level of the main Building, the Commander himself stood. Fighting with a Short Sword and a Shield. Almost like the Legionnaires before the Knights Were First created.

Yelling something in his language, he pointed his shield at me, and then charged straight in.

I ducked. And smartly, because his swing actually cut through some of the wooden wall of the fort.

He was good, at least in the style he fought. But he hadn't fought a Warden before. Most Men with Longswords simply swing it around, hoping to catch the enemy off guard. Normally this actually works. If you have enough strength to put behind your swings.

But in this case, no. there was no chance in _Infernum_ for me to Beat this guy with Pure Force. Vikings are naturally stronger than us. Years of training and hardship does that to a person.

But they're not as smart. They still use Animal skin and Leather for weapon. At best, sewing a Maile for their greatest Fighters.

We'd already had Plates, before we even knew the Vikings.

The Warlord attacked me, but I Dodged his swing, blocking the next. Then I thrusted straight at his chest.

His caught the Sword between his own Sword and Shield. And Pulled.

If this was my old Sword, the One I'd left in Fort Daubeny, I'd've lost it now. But Daubeny's sword was well-forged. And I had enough strength to not let him Pull it off my hand.

At the last second, though, he let go of it, the momentum throwing me back. Hitting the wall, I groaned, but quickly brought my sword up intercept his blow. He began pushing his sword.

If it'd been a knight doing that, it'd definitely work. But this guy had forgotten one thing. I was the one with the armor. And his legs were unguarded.

I did something that The Trainers in the Order would probably denounce me for, if they knew. I kicked him in the crotch, with my Armored Boot.

The Viking let go of his sword and shield, face red in pain.

I took that moment to end him, and finish his misery. With a strong pull, I embedded my Sword into the side of his neck, Performing a Flawless Spinning Decapitation.

The Bandit fell to his knees, and the side.

The Vikings were done here.

And I had time to look for the Rogue Knights now.

* * *

Out in the woods right before the fortress, someone cried "DIE, Blackstone dogs!"

We both looked around, confused for a moment. Then dropped from a Tree a Lightly-armored Warrior with a Pair of Shortswords.

I cursed.

 _Peacemakers_.

They're good to have on your side. Masters of Sabotage and doing the stuff that normal knights don't want to do, eliminating a threat before it even becomes one.

Fighting one isn't as pleasant. They're fast with their swords, and while a single strike won't hurt, they never stop at the first strike.

If the first lands, you can be sure the next ten will too. And even a knight will die if he bleeds too much.

The Peacekeeper charged in, Landing her Shortsword in Stone's Side.

The Conqueror cried in pain, falling to his knees. She raised her dagger and sword to end him, and I Charged straight in, impaling her with my sword and running straight at a Tree.

The Rogue Knight hit the Tree, and cried in pain. Then shut up when he Sword-hilt landed on her Neck.

I knew I had been lucky. If I'd been a second slower…

"You alright?" I asked the Legionnaire. He gulped, but then nodded. "I'm alright. 's long as I don't get hit here again, and get treated soon."

I shook my head. "No time for that. Rogue knights. Remember?"

He sighed. "Alright. I'll manage. Let's go."

Next up were a squad of Knights with Longswords. Not exactly Wardens, but still skilled. Had to be, to become an Iron Legionnaire.

Still not nearly as much as Stone, who'd trained them, or me. We cut our way through them.

Finding our way to the Final Sanctuary, we stopped in front of the last Iron Deserters.

That really angered me.

They were members of the Iron Legion. All Knightly Legions share the same oaths. A Warden in the Obsidian Legion takes the same oath the Blackstone Wardens do. The Regal Lawbringers swore the same oaths the Golden Legions did. And these _honorless bastards_ had broken theirs.

What had happened here?

The Deserters didn't attack us at first.

They just stared at us.

I started. "Why have you Abandoned your posts?"

Their leader, a Conqueror, but better armed than Stone, walked forwards. "A Blackstone Dog has strayed from his pack."

"Stand _Down!_ " I snapped. "Your _people_ need you!"

The Legionnaire looked at me. then said, quite Confusedly, "What's a _warden_ , and an Honorable one at that, doing fighting for Apollyon?"

Stone dropped his Flail into Action the same time the Deserter did. "One of us should go home and Change!"

The Other snorted. "Yes. Hopefully it'll be the one who's fighting for the sake of _war_."

 _WHAT_? I almost asked, but still, asked again. "WHY have you abandoned your posts?"

"They have no idea what I'm talking about, do they?" asked the Conqueror, rhetorically. Then simply said "Kill them."

Bad idea.

When fighting a big group of Enemies, if You have a weapon with a long reach, it's the best to be right in the middle. A Warden doesn't learn that. I'd found that out the hard way on my time as a Mercenary, before joining Daubeny's crew.

But the main principle still stood. Stabbing one of the Knights in the Chest, I Kicked him off my sword, swinging to intercept a blow from a Conqueror.

Stone, of course, went for the Leader from the Start. Conquerors take stuff like this seriously. Even though half of them are criminals and the other half forcibly Drafted into work, they still have a _reputation._ Like how Lawbringers deal with a Bandit who wields a Poleax, I suppose.

Wardens don't do that. A _lot_ of people wield Longswords, and most people don't even know what a _warden_ is. Just that they're serious fighters with Longswords.

I was busy cutting off the Deserters, who had stopped with their rhetoric by now. I dodged a swing, leading the sword into the chest of another, before breaking through another man's guard, slamming my helmed head into their head. The poor bastard was a Conqueror. Their Helmets are weak.

Then, I faced a stronger Opponent.

A Fellow Warden. If that emblem on his chest said something to be known.

He dodged my first swing, blocked the next few, and thrusted straight.

 _Block left! Parry! Dodge Right! Swing right! strike Left! Dodge left! Block high! Block Low! Swing Left! Swinging Strike!_

We were matched in skill, at least it seemed so.

But I had an advantage he didn't.

Stone.

Who charged at him from the behind, his shield slamming into a small unguarded spot on the Warden's back.

"Why. Have. You. Deserted?" I asked once more, focusing each word with a strike.

"WE WILL NE'ER BE APPOLLYON'S SLAVES!" the Warden shouted.

"What of your _oaths_?" I asked, "Protect the Weak! Defend the Defenseless!" He snorted. "Under _her_ banners? Have you _ever_ fought in one of her battles?"

I paused. In fact, I hadn't. I hadn't even seen her yet. "So you've Deserted this Legion, leaving outposts for the Vikings to find, giving them Lairs to stay in and attack our _people_?"

He said "They're in the same trap _you_ are!-" and then lost his head to a strong swing of Stone's Flail.

I sighed. Right before I could find out _what_ he meant.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" I turned towards the gates of the Small sanctuary.

 _More important things_.

A Whole army of Deserters were there, ready to Fight.

Three Captains ran at us, tens of Fighters behind them. A Stray arrow embedded itself in Stone's Chest, next to the Stab Wound earlier.

He staggered back, breaking the arrow but not quite battle-ready.

And right then, when I was ready to meet my End, and the Father Above, Was the day I finally met our Leader.

A chill filled the air. Silence for a second, then out of the chaos charged a Woman in an Armor Painted Ebony.

It looked like a Lawbringer's armor. But in her hands was a Longsword.

Longer than mine, and better forged.

With a loud cry, she impaled a Deserter in her chest, throwing him at a couple of Men-at-arms, essentially rendering them useless, before Slamming the hilt of her sword in the Face of another.

Blocking a swing, she continued the motion of her sword's Block-swing into Cleaving another Knight in half, following the same Movement to grip her sword's hilt into the neck of another knight, bringing him down, slamming him to the ground.

Not missing a beat, she blocked another swing, grabbing the enemy's shorter sword with her off hand and pulling it off the man's grip, kicking him in the chest.

A Random Man-at-arms actually managed to land a hit, but Apollyon's Retaliation was swift. With a strong push, she slammed the poor man to the ground, impaling him with his own sword up to the hilt, following the motion into blocking a swing from another sword, slamming it on the ground. Then she striked the Man's neck with the hilt of his sword, raising it again to cut it off.

Finally over her bloodlust, she turned towards the men-at-arms, now without any commanding officers, and stepped towards them.

I couldn't blame them for intimidatedly taking a step back. Honestly, If I'd been facing such an Onslaught, I'd be terrified too.

Hell, I already was terrified. She was right to choose a Demon name for herself. She truly was a demon in a Human's skin.

The Last Knight Deserters, a Peacekeeper and a Conqueror, still were ready to fight.

Apollyon blocked two Swings from the Peacekeeper, dodging a Flail, and with a Sharp swing at the man's Buckler pushed him back. Finding it an appropriate moment, I charged at the Conqueror.

He Blocked my swing, then replied by swinging his Flail above his head, threatening me into stepping back.

 _Dammit. She made it look so_ EASY!

Apollyon, not paying me any attention, swung at the Other Knight.

This one apparently had a semblance of skill. He blocked the sword-strike, leading it into the ground, and stabbed the Knight Warlord in the Side with her Dagger.

Apollyon didn't like that. She grabbed her by the neck, and slammed her Sword-Hilt into her face, her next swing cleaving off her head clean.

Busy looking at her be a Badass, I missed a Shield bash that slammed me into the stone wall. The Conqueror raised his flail, ready to kick my head off, but then a sword came down on him.

His hand flew left, his severed head right, and before he even knew it, he'd hit the ground one hand and head short.

Like a Small Boy who'd found out he'd become a Squire, I said "Apollyon!"

She looked at her side, the dagger still in. she shrugged, pulling it out and dropping it away, before offering a hand, " _got you_ , Blackstone!"

* * *

Before long, the Remaining Deserters were forced onto their knees, the Blackstones surrounding them.

Apollyon nodded Discreetly, all her knights following her lead and Sheathing their swords.

The Deserters looking as Surprised as I felt I was, dropped their hands out of 'Surrender' position, looking at each other in confusion.

Two of them nodded at each other. Then before I could even Blink the pair lunged at Apollyon, pulling a dagger out of nowhere, ready to strike.

Apollyon Grabbed the first one's arm, punching him in the chest, before turning him over, and with a kick forcing him down on the ground. The other Conspirator meeting the same fate. A pair of Longswords landed on them, pointed at their necks, but not Piercing yet.

Another Blackstone Secured the Deserters, and Apollyon turned towards the re-apprehended Rebels, "do You Know what kind of Creature waits for its own slaughter?"

"sheep" she spat, like the word was an insult, she turned, repeating it to herself again, as if Mesmerized by that word. Then with a spinning swing, decapitated the nearest Rebels.

 _WHAT?_ I drew my sword, ready to attack him, but Cross held my arm, holding me back. "No" he warned me.  
surprisingly, his Tone was like one who'd warn a man of a Deadly Snake, not like a Teacher threatening his students.

He was as angry about this as I was. He just couldn't do anything about it.

The Rest of the still-kneeling Deserters were killed. Painfully. In ways that are not Honorable for any knight to even mention.

And Not even paying them any attention, the Warlord of the Legion turned towards the conspiring rebels.

"Welcome to the Blackstone Legion."

I had my answers. But too late.

And A Warden's oath is not Lightly broken.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Honest to god, I know I didn't express the Apollyon fighting scene as good as I wanted to.**

 **But that scene was when I finally knew that that woman was** _ **BadASS!**_

 **Like, The Orochi, Supposedly the most skilled player character in game (Which I Disagree with. IMO the Warden shouldn't've lost that duel. He could win it, easily. It'd be good for that smug bastard to lose once in a while too.) doesn't even come close to that level of skill. Like** _ **honestly,**_ **did you SEE THAT?**

 **Ehm. Sorry for that show of Fanboyery.**

 **Now, back to the Business at hand.**

 **I'll probably finish the Knight Chapters soon.**

 **Then there'll be a break until I can write the Viking Chapters.**

 **Until later,**

 **Davoid Signing off!**


	4. Chapter 4 (Holden)

**The Time came to show the Vikings who they really were. We would Strike deep into the heart of their lands.**

 **But first, we needed to Cross the Mountain Pass.**

 **Holden Cross was the perfect man to lead the charge.**

* * *

 **Where Order has broken down, Where Cruelty and Lawlessness rule, The Lawbringers** _ **are**_ **Justice.**

 **We Go wherever we're Needed, and we Come** _ **prepared**_ **. Our Armor has no equal, its construction a secret of our order.**

 **Pray that you do not need us. And when we** _ **arrive**_ **, pray that you have done no wrong.**

* * *

The Snow was falling on Valkenheim, but we went anyway.

With Rex Behind me, I marched forwards, passing the Legionnaires until I'd found where our Perimeters were.

From there, I was on my own.

Almost.

As Commander of the Blackstone Legion, second in the Leadership Chain, it fell to me to lead the way.

Our scouts were already in the snowy fields, of course, but a lawbringer is the best there is to clear a large field off enemies.

Simply running at the Bowmen bandits, I charged.

Swinging high, The Hammer of my Halberd broke the arms of one archer, following the Momentum to impale, and then throw overhead another one.

They had no chance.

One of their Warlords, an Earl, if I pronounce it correctly [ **A.N: No, Holden you do not. It's pronounced Jarl.** ], was there to stop me. with a Barbed Shield and ornate sword. He was no match for me, of course. Waiting Patiently, I finally found his chest unguarded. Impaling him with the Spear of my Halberd, I raised him up into the air, running towards the bridge with the Savage on my Axe, before dropping him off the bridge.

Stubborn bastard ran the way to the other side, but I was ready for him. in true Impaler Fashion, I stabbed him again, lifting him up, and leaving them handing on the steady Ax. And kicked it off.

It wouldn't break. The Handle of this axe wasn't made of wood. But from that distance, the Earl would.

It didn't take long for me to finally realize that they actually _knew_ we were here.

"They know we're here!" I ordered, as I ran. "Keep moving!" as I killed off a few of their Archers.

A Raider, with a large axe, stood in front of me, saying something Nordic. I rolled my eyes, and hit him in the head with the handle of my Axe.

He staggered back, but charged in again. Stubborn Bandit.

Blocking his axe-swing, I forced pushed my axe forwards, hitting him once more. With the Viking dazed, I could go in for the kill, a swift Hammer-strike on his back.

I was there.

The Entrance to Valkenheim.

A small wooden bridge connected the large island to the mainland. One that we'd have to pass in some way.

On it was another raider.

With a Loud Cry, he attacked, swinging high.

I was ready, though, I brought my own Ax up to block it, and slammed it to his face, yelling " _No Supestes!"_ the Bandit staggered back, and fell off the bridge.

"Outta my Way" I said, before running forwards.

Lucky too, for just then the Balls of Catapult-Fire flew over my head, one of them hitting a Cliff, dropping the Rocks on the bridge.

The Bridge had been broken.

The Men could still scale the Island and get in, but I needed to get rid of the Catapults first.

 _Savages._

* * *

Running over Ice-fields with Plate armor on wasn't a good plan.

It was just my Only Option.

The Ice was breaking. And the water would be _freezing_ , even worse than normal water.

The fact that a Dane was on the Field, trying to attack me didn't help at all.

As soon as the Ice beneath me cracked, I rolled towards the land, fortunately in my way.

The Raider had no such chance.

Climbing the Steps to the First Catapult, I took care of everyone nearby, and then broke it.

The Catapult is a deadly weapon. It can change the tides of war. But it's also weak. One strike can break it.

Now off to the other Catapult, I once again had to move past the Ice-fields.

Fortunately, the Raider on the other side had the Courtesy to let me get to safety first, before trying to bash my face in.

" _No Supestes!_ " I yelled, and Impaled him in the Chest, before he could swing the ax at me, slamming him to a particularly sharp Rock.

He moaned once, and then fell.

I could get to the Next Catapult now.

This one was guarded by only a single Man. but I'll give this to the Viking. He was _big._

He Swung once, I parried, and Impaled him, slamming him to the Catapult, thus breaking it.

The man yelled in anger, before swinging low.

I dodged, and swung high.

His caught the blow with his own axe, pushing my weapon away and hitting me with the blunt end of his axe, I fell back, dropping a Short Fall and landing on my back on _balls-freezing_ Ice. The Raider nimbly slided down, ready for combat again.

But now I was angry.

And an Angry Holden Cross is a very bad enemy to cross (Pardon my horrible Pun.) as soon as he'd swung his axe again, I had him. Impaling him in the Chest, I charged forwards, stopping steps before falling into the water.

The Viking's eyes widened, and he fell off my Axe.

 _Good Riddance_.

quickly I ran over the bridge as the Ice broke before me, and ran to join the rest of the army.

The Mountain pass was secured, and we were _this_ close to taking out Valkenheim.

"FIRE!" Rex ordered, in front of the cliff separating us from our target.

Apollyon was there too, with her little Cult of Black-wearing Soldiers, as well as Rex, Stone, Mercy, Auria, and the rest.

I'd found the place the last.

"You took your sweet time, Holden" Apollyon chided, "Should I have given the Command to Rex? Go!"

I tried to Scale an already secured bridge, but one of the soldiers snapped "try another bridge that _isn't_ full!"

I sighed, and walked to the Bridge-Launcher near the one we'd already fired.

These things weren't exactly Easy to build, and easy to figure. And they're easy to break, if the enemy is fast enough.

But we've been using these for Ages. No reason to Stop that Now.

I kicked one of them into action. But it wasn't aimed properly.

The Bridge couldn't hang to anything, and fell. "Damn Thing!" I mumbled, as I ran to find another Launcher.

This one worked. Running on the Narrow Man-made Bridge, as if a normal man, I put a shield in front of me, and _ran like hell_ , throwing off anyone who was in my way, the rest thankfully not having any problem.

Finally, I was inside, and the rest of us would only follow.

* * *

Cutting through tens of Vikings, I found the Controls that could open the bridge.

Three men were still defending it.

Running straight forward, I blocked three Swings, before hooking the attacker's leg with my Poleax, pulling it, and Knocking them down.

Ignoring the normal procedure, I simply stomped on the man's Head, swinging low at another Viking and pushing him into the Fire.

The last one took a look at me, and ran.

Three Knights chased him.

I didn't have time to join. The Gate had to be opened.

"Cover my Back!" I yelled at the nearby knight, as I brought down the Dawnbridge.

And it was over.

[linebreak]

We couldn't leave a force behind, of course, to guard the Prisoners.

So We didn't leave any. Easy as that.

It's this part of the job that I don't like. personally, I believe that if an enemy surrenders, they _live_. At least until they face trial. By their own laws or by ours. I never Kill anyone in a Fort when they surrender.

But what Apollyon Demands, she gets.

All of them died. Some by my hand, some by others.

All of them died, except for those who were _bloody enough._ The _'Wolves_ ' as Apollyon called them.

Take _Jurmandr_ , for example:

they brought him to the Stocks. He struggled.

They tried to force him to kneel, he _laughed_.

They had to _force him to his knees,_ and even then they couldn't hold his head down long enough for an axe swipe. This bastard was _one_ bandit I wanted dead.

And when they could, right before I had my Axe down- "Hold" boomed Apollyon.

I looked at her incredulously, "This _Beast_ killed at least forty of our men. Including Davis"

Who I didn't even know personally. Only that he was a close friend to Apollyon. Well, define 'friend'.

She looked at me blankly. "Do you know how to tell a predator from a Prey?"

I didn't reply.

She wasn't looking for one. It was _monologue_ Time.

"You can't, Of course!" she continued, "Unless you see them in war.

"Forty!" The Knights had Jormandr rise. Apollyon looked at him. " _Well Done!_ "

I had thought her laws of Selection only applied to us.

That was when I learned that, sadly, _I was wrong._

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Finally, over.**

 **I love Holden Cross. He's one of my three favorite 'Protagonist!' Characters in game. But sadly, Lawbringers aren't that easy to write.**

 **Their Fighting style is different (Effective, though. But still different.) and to be honest I am not a Native Speaker, I don't know half the words to use for a good fight description. Much less a fight involving Axes.**

 **Also, as a Reply to the Guest who asked if this will be a novelization or will there be any differences... There will be. but not in the Knight Arc.  
To be Honest, The Knight Chapter is basically the one part that _cannot_ be changed, if You are to stay Faithful to the original Arc. but there'll be a few differences in the Viking Arc, and some more in the Samurai arc.  
plus, There were ' _seven_ years of Bloody war' between the Death of Apollyon and the Start of the Peace talks. we have no idea what happened then. yet. (Maybe a DLC in the future will explain it. until then...)**

 **Anyway, Next with Mercy, soon enough.**

 **Davoid Out!**


	5. Chapter 5 (Mercy)

**When Wars end, it is the Silent Blade that keeps the Peace, but when wars Rage, a Peacekeeper's work is never done.**

 **Quick, Lethal. They can win a fight before their enemy even knows they're there.**

 **Dancers of Death, with Dual blades for dancing Partners.**

 **What they** _ **know**_ **can destroy Legends.**

 **Or Create them.**

* * *

Our Army needed Passage. The Vikings can be _Creative,_ when they Want to be.

Unfortunately for them, Screwing Plans up is kinda my Specialty.

The first Viking I faced, in that mission, was a moron with a huge sword.

One who had never fought anyone with two weapons.

I stabbed left, piercing his left side, when he _finally_ brought the sword to block the already landed strike, my dagger was in his neck.

 _Moron_.

The second wasn't that much of an idiot. He blocked my first strike, and the second.

The third blinded him, and the next ten were his doom.

I never leave anything to chance.

Leaving the man to bleed out, with his limbs all out-of-work, I took a look around.

Bloodied Shields, weapons, and fish.

The Viking Tribes each had different Costumes. These looked to be Warborn offerings. Probably for strength in war.

Apollyon had 'asked' me to clear the way. Of course, I obeyed.

My next Foes were three Vikings. A Berserker, and two Longsword Morons.

The Berserker was a good enemy. Almost as fast as a Normal Peacekeeper, with weapons as deadly.

I blocked his first strike, and his second, then kicked his leg, breaking his stance.

Two swords in his Neck, and done.

The Worst part was, I didn't even want to do this. These Vikings, _THESE in particular,_ hadn't done no wrong to me yet. Not to any of us. And we would leave the place a ruin. Such was how the Blackstone Operated.

The first Longsword Moron almost hit me. I ducked, and brought my Sword into his neck, quickly stabbing him three times, and leaving him to think what he'd done.

The last one was ever easier than the other two. He swung, I jumped over his head, and behind him, _where he had no guard_ , two Swords impaled him.

Sometimes I pity these guys. They're nowhere as bad as I make them out to be. They're actually good fighters against the other Knights. They're just unprepared for the fighting style a Peacekeeper has to keep.

But they weren't as Vigilant as a good guard should be. Sneaking up on the first two, standing near each other talking about something in Norsk, I drove my swords into their necks, and before their bodies had fell onto the ground, I was fighting the last.

He swung left, I grabbed the Axe, jumping over it above his head, and with a clean strike cut off his two arms.

Let him fight without them.

* * *

I sneaked my way through the Pass, killing Vikings on my way, killing the Vikings as I went through their lands.

The Knights, most of the Conquerors at least, like to think that the Vikings captured 'our' lands, and took over them.

Like most of us, The Vikings don't remember their own history. These are their ancestral lands, lost millennium ago. they returned from the Lands Far north relatively late though. And took over their own lands.

But Human Greed has no end.

And Wars are easy to start, when its 'Us' Vs. 'Them'.

I was finally near their Fort. Well, what They call fort anyway.

And I had an idea. The usual. Sabotage.

It I could destroy their Main Warehouse building, they'd be weakened enough for a front Assault to work.

And I knew exactly how to do that.

I jumped from the ledge, cutting a poor Viking down as I landed, and I was in the shadows before anyone could see anything happening.

Inside the warehouse, I looked at the mechanism that worked as a Counterweight, holding the main Cargo up and securing the entire place.

Now _what_ would happen if I were to pull that lever?

Pulling it, and putting an Obstacle to make sure it wouldn't revert to its default, I went to find the other Lever mechanism.

It would be here somewhere.

Three Vikings were in my way.

A Berserker, a Raider, and a Moron. the Raider Attacked first, but I dodged, rolling between his legs and planting my swords in his knees from the behind, I took him in a strangle-hold and broke his neck.

The Moron attacked next, swinging low. I blocked his swing with one dagger, and drove the other into his chest, stabbing him there five times.

He was dead before he hit the floor.

The Berserker was smart. He hit me from both sides, forcing my both weapons into blocking, and then head-slammed me, breaking my Guard.

But before he could continue with that advantage, I ducked, planting a sword in his Left Arm, and jumping over him, to slash at his right knee with my other sword. He fell to the ground, and one sword-slash at his Neck finished him too.

I did the same to the second lever-mechanism, and walked outside.

The Vikings, at least most of them who weren't dead yet, were Feasting. Right below the Warehouse.

Quietly, I picked up a pair of Daneaxes, and Planted them on the door, making sure they wouldn't be breaking out anytime soon.

Now, taking the ladder and climbing to the second level, I faced the last group of Vikings I'd ever fight.

A Valkyrie and two Raiders.

The Raiders were easily taken care of, simple slashes and stabs killing them, but the Shieldmaiden was a harder foe.

She had a sharp spear. One than would be harder to block than a sword. and with her shield she had more of a chance to block.

That mean fast action. As I jumped, a full spin in the air, I grabbed the Ledge, and swung myself on the other side of the room, which mean exactly behind the woman.

From there, it was easy to eliminate the last Viking who was actually still a threat.

Now, it was action time. If I understood the contraption, raising the Elevator now would prove exciting.

Raising the Elevator with the simplistic Controls, I jumped over, grabbing a Rope and sliding down.

I ran, and as the building shook once, twice, and thrice, didn't look back.

Not knowing what I'd done helped me sleep at night.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **The Peacekeeper is** _ **intentionally**_ **written this cold and calculating.**

 **They're essentially assassins. Something the Knights didn't exactly like. so I always felt that the Peacekeeper order kinda was tolerated by the other three orders, not more than that.**

 **But assassin means acrobatics, quick and numerous slashes, and disabling enemies (By cutting their arms off, for example).**

 **Something the Peacekeeper lacked. Except for when in Trailer.**

 **Alright.**

 **Next Chapter's gonna be Lit. Literally.**

 **Davoid Out!**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Fortress of Svergard. My Goal.**

 **For too long the true warriors of the Vikings had been held back by the chains of Social Bonds, of Kin, of Law. Now, we would knock down their gates, and return their world to its rightful order.**

* * *

The Main Plan was simple.

Make sure the Ram reached the Gate, and knocked it down.

Then pour through the gate and kill everyone on sight.

But I had questions.

"Master," I asked the Warlord of the Legion, "why _This_ fortress? It looks like it's nothing but a Warehouse."

"It Is!" The Demon of the Black Stone replied "That is precisely why we're here!"

She pulled a hand around my shoulder, and walked towards the fortress in the distance. "These… These _Barbarians_ , they seem like they're good people, hmm? They embrace each other, like they were all kin! But _THAT_ is a lie. When Night falls they stab each other with their knives." She turned to me, tone creepy and glint even creepier. "If there are _wolves_ amongst them, should we not set them free?"

I had my answers. And more questions. Ones not that easily answered.

But Being a Skeptic was a death sentence. Still, doubt is a part of Integrity!

* * *

Protecting the Ram until it reached the gate wasn't easy. It took long, and a lot of Crowd Control. But when we reached the gate was when the problems actually started.

The Ram hit the gate once. But then a rather well-aimed Trebuchet Bolt (and God help whoever sold these Barbarians a Trebuchet) hit the ram, stuck in the Mechanism that made it work.

I had to get it off.

And I did.

Except that then I met the Owner of the Warehouse we were torching.

The Legendary Jarl Gudmundr of Svengard.

The Jarl lunged at me, jumping forward and landing a hit.

I raised my Sword, and blocked the first swing, and attacked.

 _Swing Left! Swing Right! Dodge! Block Right! block Low! Watch for the shield! Strike Left! Side Thrust! Stab left!_ The fight was fast. It flew quicker than any other duel I'd ever seen or been part of.

As we traded blows, the Ram moved again, Banging at the Door once more. The Shockwave of that Blow shook both me and Gudmundr off our feet, but neither lost footing, Gudmundr brought his sword left, I raised my leg and brought my feet on it with full force, striking with my sword at his sword arm, intent to cut it down.

He was faster than I thought. With his shield he deflected the blow, and pulled his sword away. But I'd been ready. I kneed him in the Stomach as he pulled his sword, and both of us were thrown back a couple of steps.

The Ram prepared for the final Blow. The Gate broke, and the Ram's frontal plating fell off, the Jarl standing on it fell down. Trying to hold myself on the ram, I went down to my knees, but there was nothing to grab onto.

I slided down the Ram, my vision slowly dimmenning.

* * *

Then, Apollyon's helmed Face was in front of me.

"On Your Feet!" she grabbed my arm and got me off the ground. Shakily staggering, I groaned, still not seeing quite right. but Apollyon's job was done.

She lost interest in me as quickly as she'd found it, and ran to join the battle.

I shook my head, and straightened my helmet.

And ran to join the battle.

We were in. that spelled doom for the Vikings. Wasn't that why we'd come here in the first place?

"Burn Everything Down!" Apollyon Commanded somewhere nearby, Soldiers bringing torches.

I shuddered. It didn't _sound_ right.

It was hardly my first time sacking a Fortress. I'd've done it a lot of times by now. So why did it bother me?

But then I thought, and realized.

These men I was fighting, the men I'd been killing…they were no soldiers. They weren't guards. They were just Civilians.

They lived here. like the People that lived in the towns we defended.

The fact they all were militant and weaponized, and _skilled enough to fight_ didn't mean they were Soldiers.

Of course, I had to push those thought back right now.

There was a Battle going on. Thinking about the abstract morality of a battle wouldn't be a good idea when fighting a Dane.

* * *

Cutting my way through tens of Danes, I found myself in front of the inner gate again.

Gudmundr was fighting a Knight.

More accurately, a Knight was getting whipped by Gudmundr's Bitch-wolves.

He Whistled once, and two dogs ran from the two houses on the opposite sides, the first biting through the neck of a knight, the other biting off another Knight's arm, giving Gudmundr the Opening to Shove his axe through.

As the knight fell down, Gudmundr looked at me, and in fluent (but Accented) Ashfeldian, said "Prepare to Die!"

And charged.

His hunting dogs would be a problem.

He himself? Even more of one.

Killing off the Dogs surrounding me one by one, I said "Your Legend Precedes you, Gudmundr"

Gudmundr didn't spare time to tell me what he thought about me, instead let his weapon say it for him.

His first swing got me in the shoulder, and his shield bash threw me off my feet.

I rolled away before his sword could land, and rose. I swung Left, and he blocked it with his shield, and I grabbed his Sword as he bought it down on my Helmed Head. Both of us Struggling to break free our own weapon and disarm the foe, I said "Give up. your people needn't suffer any longer!"

The Viking scoffed, "My People have been Suffering since your Legion was created!" and slammed his head to my chest.

I fell back, letting go of his sword. he attacked again, I blocked, before Grappling him and running towards the Main Gate.

Slammed open, the Viking rolled away, ready to attack again, when one of his men held him back, shaking his head.

He looked at me with a glare filled with Hatred, but left, escaping.

I had to catch him. end this battle before it could get escalated any longer.

* * *

Of course, I know now, what haunted me that day. I learned it soon, when I caught up with the Man again.

When I found him, he was on his knees, weapon and Shield scattered around him. looking at his Burning home, crying silently.

It was When I saw a man see his home burnt down because of us that I knew it: I was on the wrong side of the war.

He wasn't paying attention to me, shaking as he sobbed at the sound of his house burning, his kin crying in pain.

He didn't even care I was there. Like I was the lowest of the low. Like I was _scum._ like, how they say it, I was _Niding_.

For a knight to be considered a Nothing is a grave insult. But for a knight to realize he _is_ a nothing is even worse.

I threw his weapon at him, let him fight. He'd be killed anyway. There's no way this sobbing _wreck_ of a man could be considered a 'Wolf' by Apollyon's standards.

But I was no Apollyon. I didn't hold myself to that standard.

I'd wronged everyone, and I would have to make it right. let's start by giving Jarl Gudmundr a good death. One worthy of their 'Valhalla'

he rose. Shakily, and stared at me.

"What more do you want from me?" he snarled. "You've already taken _everything._ For the sake of Odin, Thor and Freyja, Just take my life and _leave_!"

I snarled, "A _good fight_. One that can send you to Valhalla!"

He snorted. And swung once.

Automatically, I raised my sword to deflect it. I couldn't even feel anything behind his strike.

He shakily tried again. and then cried loudly, throwing his shield at the side.

I sighed, Bringing my sword down. "You fought well."

As he was still on his knees, He looked me in the eyes, intense hatred _worse than anything I'd ever seen_ , and said, with his last breath, "To _Hel_ with you!" he spat blood, and fell to his side.

Dead by the Grief of seeing his everything lost.

* * *

I huffed in shock. The Man, a _Viking,_ of all people, had disnamed me.

I turned. Mercy was there. Looking at me, her helmet giving her a soulless look.

Honestly, sometimes I didn't even know if she even had a soul.

"Mercy" I said, Shared Grief of Fellow man losing his home evident in my tone, "Why are we here?"

She didn't answer me. I continued "I think you know."

"I didn't. but It's not hard to figure out." She sighed. "Famine. This place houses their seed grain. What few their farmers have. There'll be no harvest. Come Winter, they'll be killing each other over what little food is left.

I sheathed my Sword and brought out my Knight Amulet.

Sword over Shield.

"I took an _Oath_." I said. "to Fight for _peace_. So did _you_. Holden, Stone, Auria, Dravis, … All of you!"

I looked her in the eyes. "That oath won't let me remain on the Blackstone legion. It won't let me _suffer it to exist._ I'm leaving. You know how to Find me if you want to."

And that's when I left the Blackstone Legion.

* * *

 **Bonus Content:**

Hours later, when the Blackstones had finally gathered all of the food, Sir Holden Cross, Knight of the Blackstone Legion finally said his piece. "Hey. This _food_. Why aren't we burning it all?"

Her Only Superior had a reply. "what do you imagine would happen were we to burn it all?"

Cross looked at her, "They'd Starve. Die."

"they'd _unite_. Against their common enemy." She shot back, "but leave scraps enough for two clans, maybe three? they will fight _each other_ over what remains. The _Wolves_ amongst them will rise. We're not here to kill them. We're here to teach them _what_ they are."

The remaining Knights finally joined them.

All except for one.

"To set them free." she said, looking at them intently. "Time to go home."

Holden looked at the rest of them. "Well? Didn't you hear? Time to go home!"

Everyone began gearing up, Holden did too, until he noticed the Amulet in the snow.

 _Rex_.

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **And with that, 'Book the Warden', the first Book of this Story is over.**

 **See you soon (On this story, or maybe another) on Book the Raider.**

 **Davoid, Signing off!**


	7. Book the Raider: Chapter 1

The year after Apollyon came, our people starved. The worst of us, the _niding_ , the most honorless of us gained power. The Outlaws returned with full force, as they had been unharmed by the Knights.

The worst of us fell on each other like beasts.

War hurt us. More than anything else could. The Knights destroyed the Great Fortress of Svengard. With Godmundr in Valhalla and almost everything destroyed, we had no food.

Vikings have no way of producing food. We Hunt, we Kill, we Raid.

And there was nothing more to raid, other than our own people.

The Warborn, a Mountain clan, had resources for a few months, and the advantage of the High Ground. Nobody attacked us. But down there in the Northland, Blood was spilt.

Ragnar took over the eastern lands. He 'built' his new Town, Gron, and then started looting others.

Siv, a Warborn Outlaw took Skallabord, making it a city for the Lawless. The only thing keeping her in power was exactly that. Her power. She was strong, and ruthless, even for a _Berserk_.

And then, three months later, law had been forgotten, as if a legend of times now lost. No _Ting_ , no Assembly. Holmgangs were now to the death, and over the most trivial reasons.

Apollyon had been smart. Vikings are a Passionate people. They're emotional, and always need something to fight.

Leave enough food for a few. And you'd given them the greatest reason of all. _Survival_.

Except, she hadn't counted for Two things.

One was the New Iron Legion. And the other, the Warborn.

* * *

( **Change in POV** )

For months, we took no action. Five days after I'd left the Legion, I was finally in the old Sanctuary where I'd first met Apollyon.

The corpses were still there, but so were the last of the rogue Knights.

I didn't attack them. I'd seen their point about the Blackstone. And they didn't attack me. I didn't have the Banners of the Blackstone on my armor.

But then we talked. They were now almost a Clan. Only one step away from Banditry. But they were still good warriors. They had a small number of Men-at-arms with them, but less than ten Knights overall. they needed more.

But even that was good. I decided to Join them. And to point them at the right direction.

They'd all been Iron Legionnaires once. They knew their oaths. And it was time knights did what they'd sworn to do.

Three weeks later, I had visitors. My old friends in the Blackstone Legion.

"What do you want here, Dog?" demanded Bellona, a Peacekeeper on the wall, when five Men still in Blackstone Armor stopped near the gate.

"We come to Talk!" their leader took a step forwards. The Lawbringer, with his legendary Helbard and words of Honor. "We want to speak with a Warden that may be-" another behind him said "is"

" _is_ in your Sanctuary." he looked at Mercy with a small glare, "Rex Bellator"

"There is no Rex Bellator here! Leave, don't you have the entire Ashfeld to 'Protect'?"

I sighed. "Let it go, Bella" and took a step forwards, and looked at them.

Stone, Mercy, Cross, and a couple of others. Without any number amongst them.

"What is it, Cross?" I said.

"We've come to join you!" he said, "We've come to join the Iron Legion."

* * *

( **POV Change** )

Nine months after the Massacre of Svengard, the Warborn finally decided to do something.

Well, we didn't. not exactly.

Knights told us to.

Knights, but not in The Orange and Black of the Blackstone.

"We took no part in this Bloodshed" said their leader, someone with a big fancy sword, "And our oaths demand us to protect the weak"

I snorted, and a couple rose from their stones with anger. Raising a hand to stop them, I said "Are you saying the Vikings are Weak?"

The Knight sighed. "No. I'm saying that they're _defenseless_. I give you my word as a Knight not to attack you. until you do it first. But You need to do something about it!"

Just because they'd come in peace, we let them leave with their armors, but for weeks, we didn't believe it.

Vikings aren't Defenseless. we all have weapons, and we know how to use them.

Until a survivor from another clan came to our mountains, asking for Sanctuary.

Then, we knew, not all of us were weaponized. Some were defenseless.

And then, the Warborn finally came down from the mountains.

* * *

Apollyon sat on her Throne, looking at the map in front of her.

It was all going according to the plan. Now, all that remained was to leave the Vikings a bread crumb trail to the Easterners. The Dawn Empire had the strange idea they were a civilized people. that _war was bad_.

Maybe a raid from the Vikings would teach them otherwise…

* * *

 **A.N:**

 **Not much happening in this chapter.**

 **The Actual Viking Book will start with the next chapter, with a New Character (the Raider, obviously)**

 **Davoid Signing off!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sometimes, A Viking is Born who carries the Spark of Gods. Raiders, we call them. It's a name that can summon armies. Ruthless, Fearless, made for Battle.**

 **The moment of a Viking's death is chosen by Fate, so what use they have of Armor? Or of Fear?**

* * *

 **A year since Apollyon came, our people starved. And the worst of us fell on eachother like Beasts.**

 **They Killed, ravaged, and looted, growing fat on their own people's misery. Ragnar was one of those.**

 **And so, I came down from the mountains.**

 **I joined the Warborn, and then we** _ **did**_ **something about it.**

* * *

The severed head of the Dane fell from the air, right at the feet of the rest of them.

They shrieked, and fumbled to ready their weapons. By the time they'd drawn their weapons, we were upon them.

And now, it was time for the Warborn to return the food to the people.

We had come to _do_ something about our People's Vermin problem. That meant to talking, and just swinging.

I raised my own axe, leading the charge, and swung it. a Viking lost his head, and three more followed.

One of them swung a Sword, only for me to grab it with a bare hand, pushing. my knee met the poor man's groin, and my helmed head his face. He groaned and fell, someone back there yelling "The Fates have deserted us!"

Pushing another (who'd attacked me from behind) into the spear of a Valkyrie, I growled. "Let's burn that gate down!"

The Corpses of the villagers, some poor bastard who hadn't accepted Ragnar's 'Rule' had were scattered on the field leading to the first gate. Wooden, like everything else here, and with a Valkyrie on the other side guarding it.

"You're a disgrace to Odin's Maidens!" I growled, as I prepared myself for single combat.

"By Killing you, I'll prove myself to him!" the Valkyrie replied. But I was already attacking. Slamming the back of my axe on her Raised shield, I pushed her back, before grappling her and running straight for the nearby rocks.

"Ungh" she moaned, as her back hit the stone. Probably broken. I didn't put anything to chance, of course, and kicked her head once, to make sure she'd no chance of rising.

Then, it was time for the Gate to go.

"Burn that gate down!" Runa said, a headstrong _Valkyrie_ of the Warborn. "With what?" I shot back. "Do you see any fire here?"

"Oh, Odin's Beard" Helvar, the _Berserk_ said, "Just use this fire Flask"

It was a curious thing. But useful. For both raid and defense. Men can't escape fire. Armored men even less.

"So I just-" I said, but he interrupted, "Yes. Just throw it at the gate. it's wooden. They burn"

As I did exactly that, everyone waiting for the wood to burn, Helvar rubbed the back of his neck, "But I must ask. Did we create this? it looks too… _Sophisticated_ for us to have created."

"You're tempting Fate, Helvar" Runa warned, and the wood burned. "Let's go find some Food."

And there it was. A whole Box full of it.

"Hah, _Food!_ " I yelled, Runa throwing back "Told you"

"Come!" I yelled, once the Warborn were all there. "It's what we came for, a few watch over these, and the rest of us can find the rest! For our _people!_ "

They had _stolen_ their own people's food! We were there to take it back. A _different raider_ might've been merciful that day. But I had dropped all notion of _mercy_ for these nidings once the Knights had told us everything.

Cutting through tens of Ragnar's men, and burning the gate in my way, I found a second food casket. With five Guarding it.

"You won't have to die!" I taunted, weapon at the ready, "Just surrender!"

One of them growled " _Valhalla!_ " and the five attacked all at once.

Well. let it never say Vikings have no intellect. The smaller ones, strong, but not as powerful as any skilled fighter, I took care of with ease, merely knocking them out, but the last one, a Warlord, was a match for me.

Hiding behind his shield, he began circling me. "A Mountain trash, are you?" he taunted, before charging for a strike, a blocked his sword attack, and pushed his shield back when he tried to bash me with it, and slammed my Helmed Head to his chest.

Say what you want about Horned helmets, but they can puncture as well as any knife. My Helmet Stuck in the man's unarmored neck, I ran towards the house behind us, slamming him to the wall, the Warlord coughed blood, and darkness overtook him.

"Guard this!" I ordered a couple of Soldiers, and joined the rest to find the other supplies.

Not much later, we'd secured everything we could, and now it was time for Ragnar to face Justice.

Of course, I had come for more than just food. Important as retaking stolen goods is, the Thief must face justice too.

Ragnar was a Raider. He knew our Creed, but he'd stepped on them anyway.

I had come for more than food. I had come for _Ragnar_.

Everyone was here, finally. In the Mead hall of the Village, where Ragnar and his men would undoubtedly be stuffing their faces.

"Ragnar!" Helvar yelled as he threw an axe to the door. Then another, and another.

Someone opened the door. "Who's-" the fourth axe got stuck in his head, and the Viking fell.

Another stepped over him, walking out in the open. "What's going on out there?"

It was Ragnar, Unarmored as any other raider, with his axe in one hand.

Helvar raised his hand, ready to attack, but I stopped him. and stepped forward.

"You!" Ragnar growled, "Who're you?"

"I am Ulfgar!" I growled back at him, " _Face me!_ "

The Raider looked at us, and let out a laugh. "Come on in, then!"

And in the mead hall, everyone was circling, clearing enough space for a Holmgang.

Normally, Holmgang isn't supposed to be fought in a Meade hall, but this would work just as fine.

This was what I'd come here for. To humiliate the Viking in front of all his men.

Both of us readied our Axes, and the whole Meade hall yelled out "Fight!"

He stroke first, I blocked it, and a second swing from the left, then tried to sweep his legs, a Swing that was blocked, he swung left to my arm, sadly for him one of the only armored places in my body.

I made sure the axe didn't hit my body, and slammed the head of my Axe at his legs, he jumped back, my momentum taking me two steps forward, and then he slammed the butt of his axe in my face.

It wasn't fatal, but it was enough for me to lose my footing, if only for a few seconds.

That was enough for him to break through my guard, secure his Axe Handle under my left arm, and swing me around, slamming me to a wall, and coming for a finishing attack.

But he wasn't fast enough. I could still raise my axe to block it.

And that was the last landed hit for him.

I was on a roll now, swinging at him, and not letting him take a step forward. Ragnar was good, but I was better.

Well, until he finally got tired of it, and once more broke through my guard, grappling me and slamming me to a wall.

He brought his leg back for a knee kick, but I ducked, hand searching for my ax, I brought it up the last second, and the let the handle hit his leg, just enough to stagger him and let my get up again.

I couldn't survive another Guard break like that.

Finally, I Bashed him to a Column of his mead had, and brought my axe back for one final swing.

He ducked. I could see fear in his eyes.

 _A Raider never fears!_

But he had, and in that he'd shown his clan dishonor.

He ran to the other door, escaping.

 _Oh, like Hel!_

I ran after him, jumping on the other horse, and began chasing him.

He would _not_ escape justice. He would _not_ escape me! I wasn't going to let him get away.

It was a fast chase. His men didn't care that he'd dishonored them, and were still helping him, and the terrain wasn't on my side, still, I prevailed. As he was escaping, I bellowed "There's no way to run!"

And lo and behold, there was a small axe there, just the thing for me to throw.

The Axe stuck him in the back, and the Viking fell from his high hrose.

"What you've done is _Wrong!_ " I bellowed, slamming the butt of my axe to his face, caught his swing in a block and continued the motion to force him back, making the Viking stagger, "You _feast,_ while all around you people starve?"

I kicked him in the chest, throwing him down yet again, "you and your men will learn to live like the rest of us, or you will become food for crows!"

"Idiot Child!" Ragnar said as he crawled to the small axe I'd thrown at him, "Might as well ask me to pick up farming!"

He Swung, but I caught his axe, and pulled back.

Gods had taken away his strength, the axe flew away and he fell down, but still he said "We're Vikings!"

I rolled my eyes, "So that's a no?"

Ragnar rose to his knees, and growled "Valhalla!"

Yes. That was a no.

* * *

Waiting for everyone to finally get there, I said "So, who was his second?"

Another raider stepped forward, "You're in charge now?" I asked, he looked at his sides, nobody would step forward.

I said "Join us!"

He sighed, and said "We are with you."

And just like that, everyone went into a festive mode. And we all began hiking back to the Meade hall.

They weren't much to look at, but they were a start.

The Vikings would make a comeback from Apollyon, and we would strike terror at the hearts of all who'd wish us harm.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Warborn grew. soon, much sooner than I anticipated.**

 **Before long, only two warlords remained in Valkenheim. Ulfgar the Raider, and a vicious killer known only as Siv. With many of the Warborn leaders held hostage, Conflict was inevitable.**

* * *

Siv's armies had grown. Her methods cruel and dishonorable, even for Raiders such as Us. The Berserker had grown bold, and had actually dared imprison many Vikings.

Soon, we Knew we had to deal with her. It was time for Viking Diplomacy.

The trail to the Fortress was marked by spikes, spikes with Skulls on them.

Runa, Helvar and I were on the front of the large horde of Vikings marching towards them. Runa looked at one of the Spikes, and growled, " _Siv_ 's Work."

"That's just barbaric!" Helvar growled, Runa shot back "I've seen _you_ take scalps."

Helvar looked at the Valkyrie, bristling as he said "It's different!" before walking over to the frontline.

I raised a hand, as I looked at the two towers on the trails flanking the road to the fortress. "Hold it."

The Berserker glared. "We'll just… wait for your signal, then."

"Believe me" I shot back, "You'll know when to butt in." and ran to the first tower.

The tower was old. Something probably remaining from the ancient Nordic empire of Valkenheim, before the great Cataclysm. Once, it might've looked majestic. Now, it was rotten. Falling.

The Vikings are a sturdy bunch, but we're not builders.

Fighting's more fun anyway.

"I'll see you in pieces!" the first one growled as he saw me walk towards them. "Boys! Get rid of them!"

Before he could say anything else, my Axe's end had met his face, and then its blade his arm. He staggered back as his severed arm flew left, a longsword with it. he cried, and I slammed the butt of my axe to his crotch. Let him walk that off.

The next on my list were two berserkers and another swords man.

Shortaxes have their uses, but a longaxe can defeat them, if you know what you're doing with it. the Viking ran, his two axes at his sides, his entire body left unguarded, I slammed the butt of my axe to his chest, and then grappled him, running straight to a tree nearby, the Viking groaned as his back hit the hard wood, and my Knee silenced him forever, the other two soon met a fate like their fellow guardsmen, and Then I could get to the real deal.

Siv's men had took the Warborn as prisoners. I would free them.

Up near the cages, another Raider was waiting for me.

"To fight the Legendary slayer of Ragnar!" the Viking said as he readied his axe, "It'll be a song worthy of the Gods!" he charged.

Fools rush in without any idea what to do. Fools and the lucky.

Fortunately, Odin is not a fan of either. And neither was I. this raider wasn't as skilled as any raider worthy of my time.

As he charged in, I rolled away, and striked at his knee. He wasn't fast enough to duck, and with my Axe cutting through it and sticking in his leg, he was too much in pain to do anything. I grabbed his neck and pulled, breaking it.

That was easy.

Now time for the prisoners.

"Having fun there, Gents?" I sniped, as I kicked the wooden door and broke it. "Grab something and get moving."

Now, to get down.

I ziplined down a Chain connecting the Tower to a tree, and after the others were there, began marching to the other tower.

With a loud cry, the Berserker and his raider comrade charged in, faster than me, attacking the group of Viking patrolmen guarding the trail to the second tower.

* * *

Minutes later, we were there. And I could see the Vikings in cages from here.

 _Vikings_ in _Cages_. Unacceptable.

With another kick, I opened the second cage, freeing the last Vikings I could see.

The men guarding these poor fellows had already entered Valhalla, and now it was time for me to meet Siv.

Her last remaining guards had probably already warned her.

How did I know that? The War horn blowing was a good sign.

Runa and Helvar would probably think that was the signal (well, it _was_ )

We would have to join them, on the frontal assault.

Not that they were any far.

"Good to see you back!" Helvar said, "and you brought…four men with you?" he looked at me incredulously, " _that_ was why you held us here for so long?"

Runa rolled her eyes, "Don't you have Vikings to kill?" she yelled, signaling our men to prepare a charge, "Leave the talking after Siv's dead!"

After that it was chaos. Pure, uncontrolled, unleashed chaos. Men of green cut through the blue armors and banners of Siv's forces, quite easily pushing them to their gates.

And of course, Siv was there.

"ULFGAR!" the Berserker bellowed as she killed a poor militia near her, "ULFGAR! ULFGAR!"

"Stop with all this shouting, you moron." Runa grumbled. Raising a hand, I said "allow me."

The men opened way for me to enter the circle.

The Berserker turned back, sneering. "what are _you_ doing, amongst the Warborn?"

"Runa's right" I chuckled, "You talk _too_ much."

"You think you're better than me?" she said as she charged in, swinging her axes at me, not letting me a moment to attack. Blocking her attacks as fast as she dealt them, I rolled my eyes, "Know it"

Siv had the numbers. But the Warborn had me. and I had history with that madwoman.

History I wanted to fix. I could fix it by killing her and annexing her forces.

Of course, that was for the later. I swung my axe upwards to intercept her blow, and slammed the axe (with her own attached to it) at her face. The Viking staggered back, but shook her head, regaining her composure. "you'll never beat me, Ulfgar! You'll die here, and your men will join you soon after!"

I rolled my eyes, ducking another blow, before slamming the butt of my Axe at her knee.

The Blow shattered her Knee, and the Viking fell to her knees, groaning.

"Looks like I just did!" I said, before Raising my axe to the sky, bringing it down with one swift strike.

The Viking fell to the ground. The Duel was over.

* * *

The Old ways of blood stir our people. Holmgang was acceptable, and honored if it saved numbers.

We were united once more. It was time to free the rest of the Warborn, and their dishonored leader, Stignadr.

The gates shattered, and former soldiers of Siv's army now in the Green of the Warborn, helped their former prisoners don armor and choose weapons.

The Dishonored Warlord was the last of his men to leave the Dungeons, as is custom. He looked at us sternly for a second, then found Helvar.

"What took you so long?" he said with a hearty chuckle, the Berserker put off his weapons, crutching the Jarl's hand with as much strength as the man himself, "Finding Vikings you _hadn't_ pissed off? Haha!"

Letting go of Helvar's hand, he nodded at the Stern Valkyrie, and then came to face me.

"My thanks, Warrior."

He had no idea who I was. I wasn't _that_ famous amongst the Older Warborn, of course.

"Don't disappoint me" I looked at him, "Jarl Stigandr of the Warborn!"

The Warlord looked at me, and then at the other two Warborn leaders, and let out a chuckle.

Then a full blown cackle, one only the Warlords can pull off.

The Warborn were united once more. Now, we needed to point them somewhere.

And I knew just where…


End file.
